


The Bar

by Angelwingsl3 (Marie_Fanwriter)



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Monologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 02:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15764448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Fanwriter/pseuds/Angelwingsl3
Summary: Some stories are best told at the bar.





	The Bar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [joufancyhuh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joufancyhuh/gifts).



> This request is from joufancyhuh for Press Start IV: Fallout Giftvegas 2018. Bain/Reyes: How do these two get together? The Kett-hunter and the Charlatan.
> 
> I hope this fulfills your request!

_ The Bar _

\- - -

“How I ended up on Kadara,” Bain began while raising his clouded glass upward toward the bar’s ceiling. “I'll never know.”

He took a long drink before placing the glass down on the bar top with a rough clink, had there been more liquid it would have spilled over the sides. He’d had a few too many, empties littered the counter around him. Usually, the asari bartender would take them away but he’d asked to keep them around. It was easier to keep track like that.

“The last thing I remember was shooting a Kett straight through the right eye... then nothing. The world went dark on me.”

Sighing, the hunter took another sip of Kadara’s finest hootch.

“Which is saying something, because Eos is never fucking dark. The sun reflects off the sand, makes me squint. Ma always told me not to squint so much, causes wrinkles or something like that,” he laughed, running a hand across his smooth, bald head. “Ha. Like I care about wrinkles. But she did. Said it would make me look more like my absentee father.”

Bain looked over at the untouched glass beside his own, a frown appearing on his features as he watched a bead of condensation run down the side of the glass. Around him, the room was darkened and the music turned down to a bass rumble. It was late. Probably too late, the bar would close soon.

“I would have liked to meet him,” he said. “Sometimes I think back on it. Ma... see she told me stories. Said that he was an amazing man before he got betrayed and shot dead by his partner.” 

He paused, raising the glass to his lips before deciding against taking another sip. He set it down and pushed it away. His gaze disappeared into the middle distance, going foggy.

“Maybe I should have stayed back in the Milky Way. Hunted the bastards down. But no. I came here instead. And... I guess... If I hadn't come here, to Andromeda then I never would have met you…. Would I have?”

Glancing sideways Bain’s gaze followed another drop of condensation down the side of Reyes’ glass. It remained untouched but he paid that no mind. The other man wasn’t as much of a drinker as he was.

“Suppose it was worthwhile at least for that.” He hummed in consideration for a moment before finishing: “Maybe for the Kett hunting too.”

Bain ran his tongue along the back of his teeth and then finished his own drink before signalling the bartender for another. The asari shook her head at him and tapped her wrist, indicating that it was nearly closing time by gesturing at the omnitool band. It made him smile because it reminded him of his mother, she used to wear a watch and do the same thing.

“Anyways…. Where was I?” he snapped his fingers. “Right! Kadara. Eos. It's all jumbled up you see. I shot that Kett dead and then I black out. I vaguely remember someone carrying me, jostled me around good and made me dizzy. Blacked right out. Then I woke up in a cargo crate… on fucking Kadara. Some Salarian doctor was looking me over, she said I shouldn't move. I had a concussion. Or some bullshit like that.”

He laughed. 

“You going to drink that?” he pointed to Reyes’ glass. When there was no complaint, he answered for himself. “No. Well okay. Well, I will.”

Draining the nearly full glass by half, he sighed again. Drinking alone wasn’t any fun. Still, he continued his story.

“See, Kadara isn't a place I fancy myself spending a lot of time. I don't like it here. But then again. You were here. So that's alright. You... You were the one who picked me up off the ground in the slums when I fell. I... Don't know why you did that. I was... am... a fucking mess.”

Again his hand passed over his head and this time it stopped to hold the back of his neck. Around him, the bar started to clear out. Stragglers like him would have to be asked to leave. The last call was a while ago. 

“So. You picked me up. Carried me home. Like a fucking damsel. I don't know why you did it. Wipe that cheeky grin off your face Reyes. Come on... I... Shit.”

The bartender started clearing away his empty glasses. Her gaze was sympathetic, despite him overstaying his welcome yet again. When she spoke, breaking his monologue it was like the world appeared around him. He’d been lost in his head again.

“Massani, you’ve got to stop doing this,” she told him.

He nodded. “I know.”

“He’s not coming back.”

“Damn it!” his balled fist rose and then slammed down on the bartop, spilling the last of what had been Reyes’ drink. “I already told you, I know that!” 

The dinghy bar came back into focus. The scent of stale liquor filled his nose and the muted noise of the music came back to full volume. He was alone with the bartender and a krogan bouncer who was approaching from the rear. It didn’t matter. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. 

Reyes was actually the ‘Charlatan’ and Ryder had killed him for it. He swallowed his misery like he’d downed his beer. It was bitter and terrible. But like all things in life, something he could bear if he tried hard enough. Right now… he just didn’t want to.

“Go home,” the asari told him. “Get some sleep.”

Bain stood up on unstable legs. He shouldn’t have had the beer he’d bought of Reyes’ ghost. He was long dead, a month or more, the days all melded together. He didn’t really know exactly how long it had been. 

Walking was difficult. But he managed to stumble past the krogan and out into the night. The air was still warm, it was the heat of summer on Kadara. Not as hot as Eos but close enough to be familiar. His apartment wasn’t too far. It was just a simple cargo crate on the roof of other buildings. It had originally been Reyes’ place.

His omnitool unlocked the door for him when he approached. The lights turned on inside for him automatically too. 

“VI, lights to 40%,” he mumbled after the door closed behind him. Already, his head hurt. The hangover was going to be massive in a few hours. 

The apartment was small, maybe twenty square metres with two metre high ceilings. Reyes had it laid out nicely though, a small kitchenette with an island was first. Then there was a queen-sized bed with a vid screen on the wall at its foot. A three-piece bathroom was behind a wall at the back. It was enough for two and more than that for one.

His feet dragged as he headed for the washroom, kicking his boots off along the way. Clothing fell next, the pants nearly making him trip as he left a trail of cloth behind him. He’d been in civilian clothing. He rarely wore armour anymore. Hunting Kett wasn’t nearly as appealing now as it had been before.

Showering took little time.

He forced himself to throw up before leaving the bathroom, he was still damp and dripping water across the floor. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

Bain was so far gone that he didn’t notice the presence of another in the room immediately. He’d walked across the room and had his head in the cooling unit, looking for bottled water, by the time he felt a chill across his spine.

He jolted back, dropping his towel and grabbing for a knife out of the block on the counter. His snarl cut off as he realized who stood in the doorway. The man’s arms were crossed over his chest and a smirk was plastered to his face. His hair was a little dishevelled like he didn’t have access to his hair gel. The clothing was ragged, as though it’d been worn too long. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

Bain dropped the knife. “Reyes?”

\- - -


End file.
